


Moonbeam Girl

by cartoonmoomba



Category: Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy X & Final Fantasy X-2, Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1823854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonmoomba/pseuds/cartoonmoomba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, you poor Summoner - and you were so ready to die for this world, too. [post-game, pre X-2, drabble-ish]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonbeam Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Final Fantasy X does not belong to me.
> 
> Author’s Note: Just something that came to mind while playing the HD remaster; takes place between X, and X-2. Leave a review?

_Moonbeam Girl_

o

* * *

 

She had not been prepared for the revelry, for the banners and the parties. She knew not how to handle herself when the tourists swarmed to Besaid, all hoping to catch a glimpse of her, the last High Summoner to defeat Sin. The miracle, the hope for all of Spira to a brighter, greater future.

She was not meant to be alive. Her body was to be taken from her final stand at the center of the Calm Lands, lifeless and serene in death and be buried at the Summoners’ final graveyard. She was meant to have a statue of her likeness carved out of stone and placed in every Temple of Spira, face kind and sombre, just like her father’s.

She was destined to die, and she spent the majority of her life planning for it. Become a Summoner. Defeat Sin. Join her parents in the Farplane. It had all been so – easy. Wanting to die for the sake of the people. But now she stood on a shore of a world rid of Sin, and she was expected to live.

How do you live, when you’ve spent the past ten years wanting to die?

* * *

 

.

.

* * *

 

He had been the sun to her world, radiant and full of life; she, the moon which reflected his light. She had become the moon the night her father set out upon his Pilgrimage, and she had been happy with becoming a martyr. It was what she knew (her mother, throwing herself in the path of oncoming Sinspawn; her father, figure silhouetted against the sky as he leaves) and it had been _simple_. _She_ had been simple, and satisfied with the easy path her life was to take. There was no fear of dying of old age, the comfort it would bring to one day fall asleep and never wake up. She would teach herself to dream of falling before the mighty destruction of their monster, joy spreading across the world as she dies.

Dying would have been easy. She had forgotten how to live a long time ago.

* * *

 

.

.

* * *

 

There is no purpose to her life and so she drifts through a life she never thought of having. She wakes and eats, plays with the children, smiles at those thankful for her actions. She sleeps and dreams of an empty death, a sacrifice no longer necessary. She opens her eyes and feels no purpose in existing.

She stands at the shore of the ocean, staring at a horizon free of worry. She brings her fingers to her lips and whistles – a promise which shall never be fulfilled. She whistles until her lungs burn, the wind turned cold against clothes too light to be comfortable.

She whistles and she talks to him, the one she both loves for giving her life and hates for taking it away; she begs—

_Give me a purpose._

Lulu comes and retrieves her from the beach. Yuna sleeps, and she wakes up to the sound of her cousin’s laughter.  


End file.
